Clock
by somethingtotallyawesome
Summary: When Haruno Sakura is brutally victimized in the line of duty, all of the cops in Konoha want to bring her assailant to justice... Especially Uchiha Sasuke, her partner of five years. But what if what Sasuke has in mind for Sakura's attacker isn't entirely by-the-book? Will the precinct stand behind him, or will they be the ones bringing the handcuffs? AU.


**PROLOGUE**

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His kid was sick and his wife was too, otherwise, he would've been out there with her. That's what he kept telling himself as he sped toward the hospital like a madman at three in the morning, hands clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. That's what partners are for, he thought. To be out there with you when you need them. Goddamn it, he should have been the one watching her back, not _Naruto_, the idiot. He could kill the guy for being so careless. He might.

Fuck, she'd better live.

Tearing into the parking lot with his sirens blaring, he doesn't even bother to find a parking spot- he just leaves his cruiser idling in front of the E.R., keys still in the ignition. He's blocking traffic and risking lives by doing so, but he finds it hard to care about strangers when the person farthest from that word to him lies on a gurney fighting for each breath. Yamanaka had not spared him any details on the phone. With her loud voice, abrasive manner, and shameless flirting, her bluntness was probably the only thing he liked about her.

To be fair, he didn't like many people. He loved even fewer. Another reason he needed his partner to pull through- his list of important people was short enough already. He couldn't afford to erase any names. _Especially_ not hers.

_Please, Sakura. Please be okay._

There's a nurse in front of him almost the moment he makes it through the door. She's blond and fat and a head shorter than he, but the grim set of her mouth and the hard flecks in her eyes earn his respect in a heartbeat. They've probably seen a lot of the same things, he realizes. The same horrible things.

"Detective Uchiha?" she asks, but it isn't really a question. His badge glints under the florescent lights and his gun is clipped to his jeans. Who else would he be? "Come with me."

He follows her down a long, crowded hall echoing with the sounds of shrieking children and moaning drug addicts. His palms are sweating profusely. He needs to see her for himself. He needs to see her for himself.

He needs somebody to make it _real_ somehow.

"This is her room," the nurse says quietly, and pushes open a door. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of her. Her skin is paler than usual and she looks like she has two black eyes. Her hair is a bird's nest and her lips are cracked and dry. He finds himself saying, "I thought she was only attacked two hours ago?"

The nurse sighs. "She was. All of this, everything you see, is a product of blood loss. A _lot _of blood loss."

"But she isn't bleeding anymore."

"She's stable now, but that doesn't change the fact that there's been a lot of damage to her body. Her heart flopped on us twice; the second time, we almost didn't get it going again. She was legally dead for two minutes. That's plenty of time for lack of oxygen to her brain to cause serious repercussions."

He swallows thickly. "Repercussions," he repeats. "Like what?"

The nurses' eyes bore into his. "Kidney failure," she tacked off. "Vision loss. Scarring of the optic nerve. Possible loss of motor skills."

Motor skills. He knew what those were because he had a six-month-old, a smart babe that seemed to learn a new trick every day. But with Sakura, it wouldn't be about learning, would it? It would be about forgetting, traveling backwards. Becoming less.

Goddammit.

The nurse has been watching his face. "You've seen her for yourself," she says softly. "There's nothing you can do. I suggest you go back home and maybe come see her in the morning. She'll have been moved out of the ER into her own room by then."

For a moment he acts like he's going to protest. Then suddenly his face goes blank, as though he's remembered something important. "Call me if anything changes" is all he says as he turns away and starts back down the hall, gun heavier against his leg than it had been hours before.

The nurse is right. He can't help her here.

He can only help her out there.

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**A/N: So... whaddya think? Should I keep going? Because I think I could turn this into something... review to let me know!**


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